A World Without
by Ymirs
Summary: [AU/GaLe] This new world has no room for fairies. His world, on the other hand, is an entirely different matter. [semi-hiatus/inconsistent updates]
1. Theatrics

**A/N: **Let's see how this progresses, shall we?

* * *

It was not uncommon for the clatter of a carriage to be heard resounding along the narrow cobblestone streets of Magnolia's alleyways. From within their homes the denizens of this historic city would raise their heads slightly as the racket grew in volume, creeping in from between the beams of tightly barred shutters, almost mocking in its jolly rattle. Some would exchange glances and occasionally attempt to peek through the thin cracks between the wooden panels and catch a glimpse of the dark procession; others would turn their heads away from the boarded windows and pray to whichever gods would listen to them, murmuring pleas of safety for their members of their home and sometimes for the wellbeing of the passengers within the carriage.

It was not unusual for the whinny of a horse to be heard late in the evening, when the stars watched silently from behind their clouded veils, and the light of wrought iron lamps served as beacons to the weary traveller, revealing the way through the dark. With the crack of a whip, the horse would carry on its way at a hastened pace, and the mean seated behind the reins would let out a loud, sighing yawn as the vehicle bounced along the street. Turning his head to the side, the driver would exchange a few quick words with the men assigned to escort his carriage that particular night, their hushed whispers loud and deafening to the deserted road. They would speak for a short time, and the men would draw their coats around their cold bodies tightly and fall back into step on either side of the carriage, blocking its barred windows from sight with their burly forms.

It was not at all strange for the driver of the small, boxy construction to grow tired with his work, and for his watchful eyes to cloud over as he envisaged a warm fire crackling before his feet and a plush leather armchair to rest his aching back in. His wife would hover over him, inspecting his appearance with wide, concerned eyes as he narrated the dull tale of his work. She had long grown accustomed to the late hours his employers forced him to keep, and had adjusted her own sleeping schedule to match his. If she was unhappy with the arrangement, she said nothing of it. He worked to make their lives comfortable, to keep them safe. And so she understood. Some way behind the driver, the four men accompanying him during his late-night travels would scan the outlines of sloping roofs and the shadows in unlit alleyways, keeping a wary eye out for anything strange. Ordinarily, they did not put a lot of effort into their jobs; no citizen was allowed outside past curfew, and so no signs of life ever appeared during these ungodly hours, apart from the odd stray cat or two. However, they had been ordered to take particular care of this carriage and its contents - they were transporting a dangerous criminal to a high-security prison they had built on the outskirts of Magnolia, and they were to make sure this mission was carried through to completion. Nothing could go wrong. They would not permit it to.

All of these proceedings were, for the most part, perfectly common. What wasn't common at all was the fact that this small, woeful procession had an audience, one who did not stare out meekly from behind their shuttered windows but instead shadowed it from the rooftops. Agile in their movements, the silhouettes leapt from shingle to shingle without uttering so much as a whisper. These were the delinquents who had the potential to hinder their plan. Bandits. Rogues. Criminals. They were of one breed yet had a variety of titles, all of which meant the same. Over the past six months their activities had diminished so much that they'd completely ceased to be referred to by anything; instead, they had become the butt of the jokes of officers who spent their nights skulking in smoke-filled bars and chortling with each other as they downed pitcher after pitcher of beer. Their reputation was that of a laughing stock, and so, the guards who strolled casually beside the carriage with their hands hanging idly by their sides and a whistle playing upon their lips, were completely at ease, and the bandits continued unnoticed by the party below.

"How's it looking, boys?" yawned the driver, scratching his nose with the back of his hand, reins clasped tightly within his grip. His voice reverberated violently through the night, and the carriage clattered eagerly in the background.

"Everything looks good," a voice to his left grunted. "Seems like a quiet night, tonight."

"It always is," another chimed in. Peeking his head round the front of the carriage, he raised his voice slightly. "Say, how much do you think we'll get paid for delivering this guy to the prison?"

"A lot," said the driver immediately. Checking himself, he added, "At least, from what I've heard, you folks make quite a pretty penny from these jobs. Not that you'd need it, with what you get already."

The men seemed oblivious to the bitter edge in which he'd ended his statement, and they chuckled as they inwardly agreed. "Money's still money, in the end," said one. "I'll take as much of it as I can. That's why I'm here. The heavens smiled down on us the day the Master took control of the city - you should be grateful to him, you know. Even someone with as simple a job as yours can live comfortably if the boss allows it."

"I suppose they could," replied the driver vaguely, flicking the reins reflexively. "Go on, Strawberry, let's keep it up." The horse age a slight neigh and increased its pace, its own thoughts wandering every now and again to the sweet tang of sugar cubes and carrots. "Just don't get cocky, you lot. Anything could go wrong. I don't know who's in here - they had a black hood tied round 'is head on his way in - but we'll be in trouble if he gets out."

"What's the worse he could do? Fight us?" All at once a bout of voracious laughter encircled the driver and Strawberry, and they both flinched involuntarily at the noise. "Whoever he is, he's completely powerless. Couldn't fight a kitten if he wanted to."

Their steady march continued onwards, and the homes of innocents receded into the distance as they came upon the warehousing district of Magnolia. They were making good progress, and would have gone on further had a sharp cry not emerged from behind the vehicle. "Stop! Watch where you're going, you idiot! There's something up there!" Startled, they driver pulled back on the reins, and his horse let out a violent whinny before the carriage shuddered to a halt. Peering into the darkness, he spied with a trained eye something glittering across the path - broken glass, perhaps? As he climbed down from his seat he started to mutter under his breath about 'damn irresponsible drunks', and stopped short when he realised what was actually barring their path.

"Well, I'll be damned - it's ice!" he breathed. Indeed, it was a solid, twisted contortion of ice, a miniature blockade reaching from one side of the road to the other. Easy enough to walk over, but had Strawberry accidentally stepped on one of the spiked tops, serious damage would have ensued. "That was a close call! Sorry, boys, I'm clearly not in my right mind tonight. How on earth did you spot it?"

Quietly, he awaited an answer, but his muteness received no response. "Eh? Boys?"

All was still except for his heart, which hammered away loudly within his chest. He turned around unhurriedly, his movement similar to that of a man who knows not what he will see yet dreads to see it. They stood around the carriage, all of them, motionless and pale as wooden soldiers in need of a fresh coat of paint. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch the sleeve of the one nearest to him, all the while avoiding meeting the man's ghastly stare. His fingers were greeted with the hard, numbing feel of ice, and with a start he snatched them back, terrified by the realisation that in the short time it had taken for him to stop the carriage, they had been frozen solid. They stared at him blankly from the confines of their bodies, unaware of their state.

"Oh, lord have mercy," he whispered fearfully. Stumbling towards his horse, his limbs insensible from the panic which was beginning to take its hold, he slammed into a shadow almost a head taller than himself. The cloaked stranger was holding onto the reins of a frightened Strawberry, who stomped up and down and snorted in distress. Without so much as flinching, the stranger threw them into the driver's face, uttering a single word as he did so.

"Go."

The driver didn't need to be told a second time - propelling himself off the ground with strength he never knew he had, he clambered onto his horse with a mad, scrabbling motion, and rode away bareback into the night, never once looking back. The stranger watched his hasty retreat until he was long out of sight, remaining still until another figure stood by his side.

"That was awfully kind of you, Gray," it commented.

"He wasn't wearing the same grunt uniform as the rest," replied the mage, drawing back the hood of his clock, "which means he wasn't another one of those lackeys. There wasn't any need to stop him, too."

"Fair enough," said the figure, mimicking his actions. A shock of white hair greeted the night, and the glow of the lamps nearby reflected in a narrow, slanted pair of eyes. Turning his face toward the sky, Lyon took a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips. A small smile found its way onto his lips. "Nice night to be out, isn't it?"

"Feels like it's been years," said Gray. He stretched his arms high above his head, and with a satisfied sigh let them swing back into place.

"Will you two please _focus?_" begged the third of their team, her voice ringing uncomfortably loud in the evening's eerie silence. She was perched atop the creaky carriage, eyes surveying the surroundings for the slightest movement. "Can one of you guys just get Jura out of there? We don't have time for this! Once the guards at the prison realise no-one's coming, they'll start looking for him - and we have to be long gone by then!"

"I'll get it open in a second," said a gruff voice. His statement was followed by a horrendous _CRASH_, and the yelp of a startled girl who leapt from her post onto solid ground. Her glowering eyes turned to the dragon slayer, who held a wooden door within a brawny hand, and then casually tossed it aside.

"LAXUS!"

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

"ARE YOU A COMPLETE IDIOT?!"

All three exclamations came at once in the form of restrained hisses, and the blonde merely blinked at them, completely unfazed by their reactions to his little thought-out performance.

"What if someone heard?" asked Levy, her pupils rapidly scanning the scene. "You could have just picked the lock!"

"We didn't have time for that," said Laxus.

"Thanks to you, we don't anymore!" said Gray. "There's no time now - anyone could have heard that! _Get him out now!_"

"Is he conscious?"

Lyon's question went unanswered by Laxus, who had stuck a large arm through the gaping hole in the woodwork and pulled out a well-built individual dressed head to toe in rags. His hands and legs were shackled and linked together by a thick steel chain, and a sack of black cloth hid his face from them, corded tightly ad the base of his neck.

"Who knows," Laxus finally replied. "Wakey wakey, Jura," he said as Lyon went to work on the restraints, which were no match to his magic. Within a few seconds he'd pulled them apart, the once strong links now dull, frozen and useless. Laxus tugged at the cords around Jura's neck, and pried them off with minimal effort. "Rise and shine, sleepy he-EAD?!" He got no further in his sentence, rendered speechless by the iron pillar which struck him beneath his chin and sent him flying into the air. He collided with the wall of a nearby building, the impact causing it to rumble unsteadily on its foundations, and fell to the floor with a _thud_, his descent followed by a shower of pebbles and stone from the crater in the wall.

Jura - or at least, what they had believed to be Jura - rose slowly from the ground, and with a rough yank he ripped the black cloth from his face, revealing a pair of deep crimson eyes and a face studded with iron piercings. Long black hair flowed from the cap and flew around him wildly, and his lips twisted into a vicious smile.

"Well, look who it is! Leftovers from Fairy Tail! And," he added, passing a disinterested glance over Lyon, "friends!"

The feared dragon slayer folded his arms across his chest, drinking in the distressed expressions of the fugitives with wicked glee. "A little birdie told me the nimrods in our guild hadn't gotten to some of you just yet. I'm glad - it's been pretty dull around here these past few months." They knew who this was - while none of them had encountered him before, they had long since acquainted themselves with the leading members of Phantom Lords through the rumours spread by the populace and the painful remembrances of their fellow fugitives. He was powerful, and he was dangerous. Their scheme, one born out of haste and desperation, had no contingency plan - they were not prepared for this. They'd taken a chance, decided to believe the hearsay which had found its way underground to the ears of antsy mages, mages who couldn't tolerate sitting around and doing nothing day in and day out. The information could've been wrong, it could've been inaccurate, yet still they had gone along with it. And now, as they stared into the blood-red eyes of the man before them, they realised just how rash they head been.

"What's the matter? Not who you were expecting to see?" asked Gajeel, his tone laced with derision. "Jura was too busy to come out and say hello - looks like you'll have to play with me instead."

"Go to hell!"

The snarl came from Laxus, who had recovered from his collision and was upright once again, steady on his feet, if a little bit dazed. A sliver of lightning streaked across his torso, and he launched himself at Gajeel. Drawing his fist back, he aimed straight for his opponent's face - instead, his blow was met by a gleaming metallic arm, and the other fist, which had struck out automatically, was repelled in the same manner. Immediately, the blonde leapt back, creating a wide gap between them.

Laxus's actions drew his comrades out of their stupor. "Let's get out of here," Gray began, but the blonde didn't seem to be listening - infuriated, he started running at Gajeel, and did not slow his pace even once, not when the iron dragon slayer slid into a defensive stance and happily braced himself for the next onslaught of attacks, nor when a strange, thin shadow rose from the ground before Gajeel's feet, getting in his way of a clear shot. Before he could even register the presence of this second character, he found himself bound tightly within the coils of an unnaturally flexible man.

"Oh _non non non_, we mustn't waste time!" the snake-like man chastised his comrade.

"Damn it, Sol, do you have to butt in _now_?" Gajeel groaned.

"We have our orders," said Sol, slinking his arms around his still-struggling prey. "Do you have it?"

Grunting unhappily, Gajeel produced a small black stone from his pocket and tossed it into the bespectacled man's waiting hands. "Do it yourself, then."

Finally gathering his wits together again, Gray yelled out at the two members of Phantom Lord, "Oi! Lunkheads! Let him go!" The air about his hands fogged up menacingly, and beside him his former classmate did the same. Levy took the same stance, an array of dangerous words poised upon her lips. They had been undecided until then - back in the safety of their hideaway, the four had agreed if anything were to go wrong, it was every man for himself. But that wasn't the spirit they had kept up in the olden days of their guilds, when they'd been complete and still roamed the surface. They couldn't just run away and save themselves. They wouldn't.

However, their companion, after thrashing about in a vain attempt to escape his bonds, realised there was no chance of escape.

"Scatter!" he yelled out. That was their code word, prepared in the event of emergency - they were to flee in different directions, and allow not a single glance back until they had reached their hideout. His brashness had cost him his freedom - he wouldn't let it cost them theirs, too. He couldn't save Jura, but at least, with one order, he would save them. And that would be enough.

They stared at him, firm in their stances, yet unsure in their resolution. "We can't just leave you!" Lyon cried.

"I SAID FUCKING SCATTER!"

If any of the inhabitants of the nearby residential area had managed to sleep through the noisy events of the night, his roar would have ended their peaceful slumber once and for all. The rumble of his yell allowed room for no argument - the desperate plea buried within the tremors of his voice had the desired effect - with their hearts in their throats and regret stinging their eyes, they fled the scene. None of them knew what happened to Laxus afterwards, but from the hot flash of light which emanated from the abandoned site, his fate became clear. He would live - whether captured or released, they did not know. He would live, because their enemies had rendered him powerless to anything else.

He would live, because they stole the very essence of his being, and without it, he was nothing.

His magic was no longer his.

It belonged to them.


	2. Lacklustre

**A/N: **So nice to see quite a few of you are interested in this story! I hope you'll find this chapter just as interesting as the first!

* * *

"CAPTURED?!"

With a growl whose ferocity rivalled that of his grandson's, Makarov levelled a bewildered glower onto the heads of the three shamefaced mages standing before him. Their backs were straight, yet their eyes downcast, unable to meet those of the master of their refuge.

After running from the scene of their would-have-been crime, the trio had regrouped at the entrance of their headquarters - an opening buried deep within the woods which surrounded the once happy town of Magnolia. Within the gaps between the thick, gnarled roots of a large and ancient oak, sorcery hid their home from prying eyes, and only those who knew of the markings etched into the bark could find the one which revealed the path inside. Here, they had hesitated, unwilling to take another step. There was not any time to waste; if they had been pursued, their location would be revealed, and their comrades would no longer be safe. They had to disappear. Yet still, their movements faltered as they edged closer to the door, and their steely resolve slowly dissipated into nothing. How could they face their comrades now?

And they went on, anyway. What else could they have done?

"Did you four not realise the _danger _of leaving the hideout? Of going outside?! You know the rules! Was there not one point where if crossed your mind that it could have been a trap? For god's sake, how reckless have you kids become?!"

No protestations were raised, no explanations voiced, no actions excused. There was no way to defend themselves against their master's enraged inquisition, and if there was, they wouldn't have dared try. They hadn't been the only ones to hear word of Phantom Lord's planned transportation of Jura - the entire hideout had been buzzing with the rumour. They'd long been aware of the enemy's movements, but they'd only ever had a vague, general idea; this was the first time they had managed to acquire such detailed information. Nonetheless, they had their rules. They needed to lay low. They needed to grow stronger. Sending people out was just too risky - they couldn't afford to lose anyone else. This minuscule population which lingered beneath the ground bordered on nearly a hundred former mages, a collective of people who had belonged to one of various guilds when they had still been able to practice magic on the surface. Unable to walk down the streets without fear of being attacked or abused by the city's new 'authorities' - whose ranks consisted of criminals and thugs whom many of these former mages had thrown into jail in the first place - they found peace and security, if not happiness, in this new place they called home. It owed its existence to Makarov and the Fairy Tail mages who had helped him construct it, during the early months of Phantom Lord's rule, in which many shelters of the same kind had been constructed all around the region. Now, few of its founding mages still remained within. Their guild had been targeted more harshly than any others, and one by one, they had dropped like flies. Some had been allowed to escape, others had gotten out by a sheer stroke of luck. And the ones who still had their magic, a mere six when there had once been hundreds, were the luckiest ones of them all, and the ones most sought after in the region.

This should have been enough to dissuade the four mages who had carelessly gone out without so much as a thought for their own wellbeing. And yet, it wasn't. Lyon had a connection to Jura that no one else had, and abandoning his friend, his _family_, at a time when there was even the slimmest chance of helping him, had not been on his agenda. He had intended to go on his own; no one else need be involved in what could only be called a suicide mission. His preparations had been carried out as stealthily as possible - at least, he thought they had been. Yet upon successfully sneaking past the night watch he had discovered three others waiting for him outside - his best friend, Gray, and the only other help he could rally at such short notice. Lyon had protested, and was completely ignored by all three. There was no way they would let him do it alone. So, with a quick sketch of plan in mind, they had gone on their way.

"Of all the people here, too, didn't it strike you three that you had the most to lose? And now my grandson…" Makarov choked on the last word and fell silent. A shadow flitted across his face momentarily, fading as quickly as it had come. "There's nothing to be done now. He's paid for his recklessness. The rest of you are lucky you got out of there unscathed."

When they had disappeared from the hideout, there had been an uproar - many had suggested sending out a search party, while others had immediately balked at the idea, unwilling to risk arrest in order to find some renegade soldiers at their own peril. Their return, one member short, incited an uproar, but for all the babble and chatter the three couldn't make out a word of it, nor were they given the chance. Without delay the master had summoned them into his chambers and demanded an explanation for their covert mission, and most importantly, the whereabouts of his grandson.

"I don't know if it was luck," Gray muttered darkly, the first of his group to speak since they had entered the room. "It looked like they were content with taking just one of us. Once they got Laxus, they didn't even give us a second glance." He shook his head. "We should have known it was a ruse."

"I don't even think the carriage driver knew what was going on," added Levy. "Nor the guards. They made it look as real as possible."

"Whatever the case, it worked, didn't it? They've won this battle. Another member of our family with his magic locked away in some damned rock; I would have given anything to prevent that from happening." Makarov clenched his fists tightly as he spoke, wishing he could grow larger and stronger as he had regularly done before, if only so he could tear the walls of his room down, and everything else around him. But he couldn't. All he had was a memory, and memory couldn't break through stone. "They won't stop until the lot of us mages, Fairy Tail, Lamia Scale, whomever fits their fancy, are rotting in their dungeons, completely powerless."

He knew this without a shadow of a doubt. After all, he had been their first. Master Jose had always held a particular grudge against Fairy Tail, most of this bitterness aimed at its well-loved leader. When he had offered a truce, claiming to be tired of all the animosity between them, and sick of the way he his guild was functioning, Makarov had decided to believe his words. Jose's tongue dribbled silver, and he had been blinded by its shine. He had been careless. All it had taken was for Jose to slip the stone in between their hands as they shook, and then it was done with. In the blink of an eye, the biggest part of his life was gone.

Now it had happened all over again.

Sighing, Makarov slid down into the old, creaky armchair they had managed to plunder for him back when they'd still had the capacity to do so. His room was barely furnished - once he'd had a castle to his name, and now, merely a chair, a bed, a small table and a dusty old carpet. He didn't care much about it; he would've traded everything he owned for one touch of his former strength. He'd never felt like an old man before, but age had hit him hard, and while he tried to hide it from those who looked up to him most, occasionally his newfound exhaustion would get the better of him, and there was no more that he could do. "You three are to take on all evening cleaning duties for the next month. And don't any of you even think about stepping one foot outside! Not for anything! Along with you, only Cana, Reedus, and Hibiki have their powers. If anything goes wrong, we'll be relying on the six of you more than ever. Don't do anything selfish. Think of your comrades. Now go."

Heads turned to stare at them as they hurried out of his chambers and down the hall, some expressing anger, and some more sympathetic. The whispers followed them all the way to the kitchens, which, at so late an hour, were completely abandoned. Now they were alone, with only clean, wooden countertops and cooking utensils that hung from racks to keep them company. Finally, they could breathe again.

"I'm sorry," said Lyon immediately, turning to his friends. Slumping against one of the counters, he covered his face with his hand. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't gone out there none of you would have, and Laxus would still be here with us."

"You didn't force us to go with you," said Gray. "You tried damn hard to dissuade us. It was pretty annoying."

"I should have tried harder."

"Nonsense," Levy chimed in. "We wouldn't have let you do it alone. It was a risk worth taking."

"Was it?" asked Lyon. He looked at her sharply, still unconvinced. "Laxus is gone. Without his magic, he's no longer a threat to them, but he's the master's grandson. There's no chance they'll be in any hurry to release him."

"We'll get him back," Gray said determinedly. "We'll get them all back. Phantom Lord got the better of us this time, but next time we'll be the ones with the upper hand. Their reign has to end some day, right? And we'll be the ones to bring 'em down. Right now, we're in survival mode, and that's fine. I can accept that - for a little while longer, anyway. Long enough to bide our strength, so that when they least expect it, we'll strike!"

* * *

"Oh _non non non_, I'm _far _too busy to take him to the prison! I need to take his magic back to Master Jose, it's _very _important, you know. I'm sure you can handle everything on your own; you're capable of that much, at least, hmm?"

Gajeel gnashed his teeth together as Sol's singsong voice echoed in his ears, its aftertaste almost as unbearable as the real thing. He hadn't even given Gajeel a chance to argue as he had slithered away into the dark, chuckling gleefully as he left his companion with the burden of lugging Fairy Tail's former lightning dragon slayer to the jails.

How annoying.

Not once had Laxus resisted - not when they had yanked his hands behind his back and strung them together with a thick cord of rope, nor each time Gajeel shoved him forward, with a snarled order to walk faster. His pace would quicken for a few seconds and then slacken almost immediately after, and he would drag the soles of his feet along the cobblestones, as though he had lost the will to even lift them. Before, he'd been a ferocious beast, a wild animal who would've knocked Gajeel flat on the ground the moment he'd had a chance - and indeed, now, even with his hands bonded and his power gone, there had been plenty of moments in which he could have done just that. Hell, Gajeel would have _killed _for even the smallest sign of resistance. And yet for all the fervour in his silent pleas, his wishes went unanswered. A once bright, coloured complexion had faded into an ashen hue, glossy blonde hair dulled and drooped, an angry spirit tamed. He wanted a challenge, and all he was given was the shell of one.

It was all because of those stupid rocks, those damned black lacrima. Their discovery had been a happy accident for the dark guild. A troop of grunts had been sent deep into the heart of a newly opened mine, to loot a trove of lacrima which was scheduled to be extracted the coming morning to be made into surveillance lacrima for the military. Finding multiple parts of the mine where the rocks were too far embedded in the dirt to reach, impatience with their work led to the decision to simply blow up sections of the mine and see what remained in the rubble. This brash (and not very well thought out) choice resulted in an entire wall of the main tunnel collapsing in. Concealed behind it they found a small pitch-black cavern whose walls were lined with glittering black crystals. Those who were careless, running their fingers along the lengths of the shining objects with absentminded joy, had unexpectedly found themselves under a strange sensation, one which, as they had told their superiors later on, stole the air from their lungs and the strength from their limbs. They collapsed to the ground, and when they awoke, the lacrima they had touched glowed with a dull, warm light, and they were void of all their magic.

This joyous occasion occurred almost a year ago, and it was this lacrima which Phantom Lord studied, mastered, and subsequently used to take Magnolia and its surrounding regions by storm. The very first time Gajeel witnessed someone's magic being stolen, it was a Fairy Tail mage, some blonde girl they had jumped while she was on her way home to her apartment. He'd been curious to see how it worked, and was heartily disappointed from the start. It hadn't been nearly as exciting as he'd expected; not the act of removal, nor even its results.

"Hey, Laxus, right?" said the iron dragon slayer. He smacked his captive's back with a hearty slap, and leaned in a bit closer. "What's the matter? You look like all the fight's gone right out of you. Where's that spirit from before? Aren't you even going to try to get away?"

The blonde was silent.

Gajeel resisted the urge to sigh. It had been exactly the same with the girl, and all the other mages who came after her. Their physical strength was diminished, and their words and movements lacked the vitality they had boasted once before; their spirits hadn't been taken, but it might as well have been the same thing. These people were no longer mages - hell, could they even be called people? Were they still that? Because each time it happened, all Gajeel could see was a broken shell of what they used to be. Swiftly taking in Laxus's deadened appearance once again, he shuddered. He would never say it aloud, not once, but taking these people's magic gave him no pleasure whatsoever. Seeing them without their magic, moving about like zombies without even the will to fight, let alone live, not only was it boring, it was just downright _weird. _He would have much rather gone back to the good old days, when he and his opponents would make a mad dash at each other and see who could break whose skull first, and the battles lasted longer than two minutes. But orders were orders, and there was nothing he could do about it. He would keep on taking their magic - better them than him, anyway.

"Come on, there's gotta be _something _left in you," he moaned.

"Do you _know _what this feels like?!" Laxus suddenly snapped. His rough manner of speech intrigued Gajeel. _Oh? This is new! Maybe I'll get some entertainment out of this after all… _His hopes, which had risen to unnatural heights with the unexpected outburst, were immediately crushed with Laxus's next words. "I…I'm _empty_. I take a breath, and it's like I'm missing a lung. If I try real hard, I can feel my heart beating, but if it wasn't for that I swear to god I wouldn't know that it's there. I can't even get _angry _at you right now, for fuck's sake, and if I could I would be pissed off about _that _too! I can't feel anything! Not a god damn thing. There's just…there's nothing. The fight you want, you're not going to get from me. Go find some other toy to play with. Just lock me up already, will you? This is all I have left."

"Hmph." Frowning, Gajeel didn't respond. Normally he would have never complied with such an order - he would have antagonised the man more if he could, until he'd provoked another rage in him. But Laxus wasn't lying. The blaze of emotion which had taken control of his speech had passed and drained him completely. Once again he had returned to his sullen, meditative state, and his eyes glazed over as his conscious travelled to more pleasant thoughts. Nothing the dragon slayer could say would perturb him any more. Well, whatever. Gajeel would do as the man said. He'd find someone else to play with sooner or later, and when he did, he would make god damn sure that Sol didn't get in the way again.

Ten minutes later, the pair had reached the warehouse the carriage had originally been headed towards - a grim, two story building made up of solid grey brick, with small black slits spaced occasionally between the bricks, presumably acting as windows. It was surrounded on all four sides by chain link fences topped by coils of barbed wire, and before the locked gates stood two watchmen wearing the distinct uniform of new recruits. Recognising Gajeel immediately, expressions mixed with fear and delight came to their faces. The mange was infamous for his violent temper, and the regular knocking around of his underlings and whomever else he pleased; for a split second they were fearful of being chosen as his next targets. However, upon seeing the company he brought with him, wicked delight replaced all misgiving. He had to be in a good mood now. After all, he'd brought home a little piece of treasure.

"Take him in," he ordered, pushing his captive towards the men. He didn't want to go in there. He'd had enough of these people for one night. The men eagerly took Laxus underhand and led him into the building, just as a dark haired woman stepped out of it, a pale blue parasol held high above her head. She approached her comrade and gave him a small nod of greeting.

"Another one?" she asked.

He nodded. "Master Jose is going to love hearing about this catch. Sol's already gone to deliver the news."

She stood beside him and contemplated building behind it, her countenance unreadable. "Juvia doesn't like this," she murmured, shaking her head beneath her umbrella. "Juvia thinks this is wrong."

This wasn't news to him. She'd shared her sentiments a few times before, for some reason trusting him with what she would not share with the rest of her companions. She knew he didn't care. She knew he wouldn't give her a satisfying response; he wouldn't agree with her, nor would he disagree, or debate, or anything, really. No matter how many times she brought it up, he was completely indifferent about it. She didn't mind. He wouldn't tell. And she needed to talk about it.

"Juvia doesn't have to like it," he finally replied. "She doesn't need to pity people she doesn't know. She just has to do as she's told."

"Why must we keep on taking their lives away from them?"

"Would you rather it was you? Quit bugging me with stupid questions. I'm not in the mood to listen to you whine tonight."

She looked at him - a long, penetrating glance which could have seen beyond his cold, hard stare, if she was willing to try. Instead, with a brisk wave, she walked away, and after a few minutes, he followed suit.


	3. Playthings

**A/N: **Chapter three! Thank you for reading this story - thoughts and comments are always much appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

Viciously scrubbing away at the black smear which had resisted all previous efforts of removal, Levy mentally cursed the heartless individual who'd decided to leave their autograph on the surface of the wooden coffee table. The sounds of her labour echoed throughout the abandoned library, where she had spent the last four hours picking up the odd bits of scrap paper and trash off the floor, dusting off the neglected shelves where their minuscule collection of hardbacks and scrolls lay dormant, scouring the corners of the walls for the webs of spiders and other signs of infestation, and finally, tidying up the couch and table. Her toils had progressed with minimal disturbance; that is, until she had reached the coffee table and noticed the stubborn streak which was practically carved into the wood. To her knowledge, not many of the shelter's inhabitants were fond of visiting the library, but her guess must have been incorrect, for the evidence was right there, a mocking sign which came in the form of an infuriatingly stubborn stain.

"Argh! I give up!"

After twenty minutes of mercilessly scraping the table's surface, Levy flung the sponge into the corner of the room and plopped onto the couch, sinking into the tattered seat cushions with a loud sigh. Her mandatory shift had finished over an hour ago, yet she had carried on anyway, simply for want of anything else to do. In all earnestness, her agitation originated not from an overly emotional reaction to a black mark, but from pent up energy, which had been building up over the past nine days since her return from her botched rescue mission. The days had gone by slowly, just as they had always done before, seconds dragging along into minutes and minutes languidly growing into hours. She had passed through them routinely: waking up early in the mornings, jogging town the labyrinth-like halls, eating in the mess hall and occasionally sparring afterwards those of her comrades who were up to the workout that day, and amusing herself with small tasks or the occasional book, even though she had long since gone through all the contents of their pitiful library. Over the past few months, sine the master had banned them from all reconnaissance activities and any movement on the outside, Levy had resided in this box-like world, under a sky of wooden beams and dim yellow lanterns, where the days went on in laborious monotony, and she had gotten used to it. One could even go so far as to say that she had accepted her fate, resigned to live out this repetitive existence to the end of her days, raging over impossible stains and all the other mundane tasks the universe had in store for her.

And then, as if challenging her tolerance, fate had brought her opportunity in the form of the young ice-manipulating mage who occasionally acted as her sparring partner, and he had informed her of Lyon's intentions, and invited her to, as he had put it, 'crash the party'. She'd immediately accepted the offer, and upon sneaking past the watch, the first thing she'd seen was the bright face of the moon - and _oh_, how long had it been since the moon had last smiled at her like this? Since she'd felt a cool breeze in her hair, and goose bumps rising all along her arm? When was the last time her feet had traversed these familiar roads and rooftops?

When was the last time she'd felt such hope for their future?

Their subsequent failure and return had led her to an important revelation: she couldn't go on like this. Trapped beneath the earth, always hiding, always inactive - it wasn't right. She shouldn't have to live like that - _none _of them should have. She'd had a taste of freedom, and now she was craving its sweet flavour more than ever. Levy found herself drawn to the idea of disregarding all the rules once more, just once, just to satisfy her own selfish desires. If she was to go out again, just once, maybe she could gather some intel, find that one scrap of information that would help them figure out how to end Phantom Lord's rule once and for all.

If she were to go out again, she would be free. If only for an hour or two.

"Levy?"

Her head jerked up. At so late an hour, she hadn't expected any company, and certainly not from her blonde-haired best friend. Lucy was wearing a dark blue robe wrapped tightly around a thin, white camisole, and pastel blue shorts which peeked out from beneath the hem. In her hands she held a thick, cloth-bound stack of papers, and a bright red quill. Barefoot, she padded softly along the floor, a telltale jingle emanating from the small leather pouch hidden beneath her robe.

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted sheepishly, twirling the quill around in her fingers. "Cana's out like a light, though. I knew you weren't in bed, but I didn't expect you to be here."

_The culprit?! _Levy's inner voice exclaimed, returning to her angry fixation on the black mark for an instant. She shook the thought out of her head and greeted her friend with a small smile. Drawing her legs to her chest to make room for the girl on the couch, she asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," said Lucy as she settled onto the chair. "Just a bit tired, that's all. Insomnia's a pain."

_She looks worse than she's letting on, _thought Levy, concern colouring her view of her friend, whose features were a lot more ashen than they had been previously. Since she'd lost her magic, Lucy had become a much more solemn person. She never said a word about it, but every day Levy would catch her absentmindedly running her fingers along the clasp of her pouch, and a mournful look would settle on her face. When she had first lost her powers, she had been shell-shocked. There was no other way to describe it. For days, she hadn't spoken to anyone; she would sit on her bunk by herself, eat her meals in her room, and simply write, endless scribblings open only to her eyes and no-one else's. It took an intervention from Natsu, Gray, and Erza (this had occurred while Erza was still with them) to finally get her lips moving again, and her eyes blinking. Soon she was talking, and in a while, laughing, even, but her skin was still pale, her touch still cold, and her eyes would still glaze over mid-conversation as she lost herself in her dream world once more. She had wanted to be useful, she needed something to do, to take her mind off of the absence she felt so strongly, and so now she recorded their days in their hideout, their missions, their would-be progresses and their failures. Natsu was different - where she lacked energy, he had somehow managed to retain his lively, happy personality, and was constantly making a show of it in the form of mischievous pranks and loud, boisterous arguing with Gray. But sometimes, when he sat with Lucy in her room and Levy was lying in the top bunk, idly reading over Lucy's memoirs, they would sit there in silence, and just for a moment allow themselves to mourn the loss of their magic once more.

"Is something wrong?" asked Lucy, gazing intently at her friend. "You've been a little bit weird lately."

"Have I?" replied Levy.

"Yeah. I thought that you were shaken up by…well, y'know, with what happened with Laxus and everything. You never even told me about it. Gray filled me in on his story, but I figured you would've done the same, as well."

How could a gaze so tired be so piercing? It was that spark of life within her, the flame that reminded Levy of her old friend, the one who danced with spirits.

"Sorry, Lu, I've been a little bit stuck lately," she sighed, nestling her chin in between her knees. "That night was terrible. What else can I say? We'd made that stupid agreement, 'every man for himself', and he made us keep our word, as if we'd actually meant it. He sacrificed himself, and he wouldn't even let us do the same for him. It was terrible, and what makes me feel even worse was that as bad as that night was, it was also one of the best ones I've had here! Lu, I was _outside_. Chasing after the carriage, getting rid of the guards, thinking that we could actually win this; it was nerve-wracking, but also the most incredible experience I've had in _months_. I want to be back out there again, Lu. I can't help it. I do."

"It's not that bad down here, is it? It's safe."

"It's _boring_," argued Levy.

"Have you spent any time with Jet and Droy lately?"

"Not this week. They were both pretty mad at me about going without telling them, so I may or may not have been avoiding them."

"And me."

"And you." Abashed, Levy's eyes dropped to her feet, which were brushing against Lucy's bare ones. "I don't…I don't have a right to be ungrateful about my situation. Out of everyone in this place, I have the least reason to complain, and the least reason to want to leave this place again. It doesn't make any sense, does it?"

Risking a peek at Lucy's face, she was taken aback by way Lucy's lips had curved into a sympathetic smile. "Of _course _it does, Levy. You're human. We're a pretty irrational species." Levy opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted before she could say a word. "I won't tell you what you should or shouldn't do with your life, or your magic. You're free to make you down decisions. I can't tell you how this feels either…but, you're still intact. And so, if anything happens, you can protect yourself."

"What exactly are you telling me?"

"I'm not _telling _you anything. But I might be _implying _that maybe you should take the night off, and get it all out of your system. We don't know when the master will suddenly change his mind and decide it's time for action, and you're just about ready to burst, aren't you? So, if you want to, then perhaps I could distract Natsu and Happy, who are leading tonight's watch, and give you enough time to get out of here without anyone noticing. Four was a big number - one is a lot easier to cover up."

Touched by her friend's gesture, Levy wrapped her arms tightly around Lucy and nuzzled her cheek against the blonde's, whispering a secret thank-you into her ear. "I'll find a way, Lu. We'll get your magic back. I promise."

"I know," murmured Lucy. She clung to Levy a little longer, praying silently for her safe return. "Be careful out there."

"I will."

* * *

Tearing through a scrap of iron in between his teeth, Gajeel devoured his hearty snack as he halfheartedly attempted to make sense of the raucous chatter of his comrades. From what he could make out of the frenzied jabber, few of them were speaking at the top of their voices, straining to be heard so they could convey some sort of message. At least, that was his interpretation of the matter. He wasn't particularly concerned about what they were trying to say, nor could he find the energy to care. Their worries weren't at the top of his list of priorities, and he had no intention to bump them up. Finally, their yelling ceased and was replaced by the laughter of the intoxicated members of the party, who seemed to have taken over the floor.

The woman behind the counter, a brazen old creature who had the unfortunate luck of running one of the most frequented bars in Magnolia, leaned over the beat-up surface between them and asked if he wanted another drink. He waved her away, temporarily satisfied with the nearly empty pitcher which rested by his hand. Behind him, a roaring cheer erupted from the crowd circling one of the bar's many pool tables, and a man with a ponytail of black and white hair released a loud 'whoop' of celebration. Spots of coloured light flitted across him and his audience, and a man seated on the wobbly stool at the end of the counter turned to his neighbour and noisily declared his victory in their wager, and the other man cursed heartily as he handed over his money.

Gajeel watched all this without interest - he had endeavoured to pass the night away in a drunken stupor, yet barely a minute after he'd taken the first sip of his drink he'd found himself unable to continue. Within his temples a throbbing ache pulsed along to the blare of the music, and with every passing moment it was getting harder and harder to swallow down the bitter irritation rising in his throat. The sullen mood he'd awoken in had persisted throughout the day, eluding all attempts of eradication.

"Hey, Gajeel, come join us in a game!" Totomaru called out to him. His face was flushed, and he was beaming widely as he waved his cue stick wildly in the air, oblivious to the outraged cries of those near him.

"I'm busy," replied Gajeel sourly, rejecting the invitation.

"Ah, c'mon!"

His eye twitched - the last time Totomaru had bothered him, they'd gotten into a fist fight, which had lasted all of five minutes before the other was begging for mercy and pleading with his opponent to 'take it easy'. Unwilling to enter a worthless pursuit, he flipped a coin into his cup and proceeded to ascend the narrow staircase which led out the building and onto the streets.

It was a chilly, grey night - dark clouds hovered ominously over the rooftops and a crop wind blew between the buildings, sweeping his hair into a wild disarray. He searched his pockets and produced a half-empty packet of cigarettes, along with a glossy orange lighter.

"Could I get one of those?"

Totomaru had followed him outside, still wielding his cue stick. Gajeel took one of the cigarettes for himself and then tossed the rest of the packet onto the ground. Next thing the Element Four mage knew, he was grinding the packet down beneath the heel of his foot.

"Gee, thanks," said Totomaru, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What's up your ass?"

"You," said Gajeel. Cigarette lit, he took a deep drag and blew out small rings of smoke, mentally blessing the world for the abundance of tobacco. "Beat it. I'm not in the mood."

"How could you not be? Life is good! Take a look around you!" Simpering, he gestured towards their surroundings with his stick. "Everything in this town is ours! We run this place! We can have whatever we want whenever we want, and it's all thanks to Master Jose. Even talking about it is hyping me up."

"Where's the fun in all that?" Gajeel muttered.

"Where _isn't _it?"

"It's too easy."

"Getting here was a pain in the neck. But we're here now, right? So why not enjoy it?"

Another sharp gust of wind ruffled his hair, and with it, mingled in with the smell of burning tobacco and strong alcohol came a very different scent, a distinct tang which he was certain he remembered from a particularly good night of his, the one which had had so much potential. It was faint, barely even present anymore, but it had to be recent, otherwise he wouldn't have caught whiff of it. Whoever it was, they had to have been nearby within the last two or so hours. Either way, it was enough to track.

Crushing the cigarette in a clenched fist, a nefarious twinkle appeared in his eyes, and without a word he shot away from the bar and from his companion, chasing after the scent which promised him something more entertaining than the inebriated idiot he had just been conversing with.

_Looks like it might be a good night after all._

* * *

"Nothing here either. Damn it."

Levy gently shut the worn-out binding of the book, tracing the edges of the crinkled pages lightly with the tips of her fingers before she placed it at the top of the pile beside her hip, a pile that had been growing higher and higher by the hour. Sighing, she removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, the beginnings of fatigue playing on her eyelids. Magnolia's Central Library boasted a collection whose books ranged from contemporary fictions to texts over a thousand years old, and yet for all the ancient texts, the contemporary fictions, the biographies, the spell books, the scrolls and the atrocities which many insisted were 'classic literature', she had yet to find the one which held the solution to all of her problems.

_Of all the types of lacrima to exist, how can this one have no history whatsoever? _she asked herself, rising from the floor in one swift motion and tiptoeing over to the section of shelves labelled 'Ancient History L - P'. She was deep in the heart of the right wing of the library, where they held archives and collections of newspapers, journals, and texts which dated back over a hundred years. They kept the older texts in a storage room deep below the library, but as easy as it had been to break into the main lobby of the building, it had proven almost impossible to get into the reserve, the security spells at its gates tougher to reverse than she had expected them to be.

The tick of her watch was a constant reminder of the two hours she had spent seated on the floor, speeding through paragraph after paragraph of useless text, and of what little time she had left before the dawn would come along and out her to the world. Lucy had taken a risk to get her here, and she wouldn't let that risk be in vain. She was pressured, anxious, and rapidly growing more and more desperate - yet, she was here, in one of her most favourite haunts in the town, where she had the layout memorised like the back of her hand, where the lamps burned throughout the night and where she knew the creak of each individual floorboard, knew where the curtains were torn at their seams and the carpet stained by careless spills; finally, she was in a position where she could actually do something to help her friends. She knew the risks of staying any longer, yet she refused to simply leave without getting anything useful. No. That simply wouldn't do it.

She knew the risks, and she was loving every minute of it.

_Creeeeak._

Levy's head snapped up, and, like a frightened deer it swivelled left to right, searching for the source of the threatening sound. Paranoia froze her limbs and wiped her mind clean - she heard it again, another painfully long creak, the same kind which had followed her into the room when she had first arrived.

"I know you're in here," a voice called out - rough, menacing, deadly.

Her heart skipped a beat - she knew that deep timbre, the devilish eyes that came along with it, the metal studs and the large, brawny stature of the man who owned them all. Standing here in between the shelves, she was exposed. He would find her.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit!_

She was cursed - that had to be it, that had to be the explanation for her horrid, horrid luck, because how could it have been possible that on both of the days she had managed to escape the confines of her home, _he _was there to ruin it all?

Levy didn't dare risk a breath, not a movement, nothing that had the remote possibility of giving away her position.

It didn't work.

A large, black shadow loomed out of the darkness to her left - he was so big, so heavy, how had she not heard him coming closer?!

"So you're the one!" Gajeel exclaimed triumphantly, reaching out to claim his prize. Ducking, Levy barely managed to escape his grasp before he hurtled at her again, his face fleetingly illuminated by the lamp which hung on the wall. "A girl. Humph. A little smaller than I would've hoped, but you'll do nicely all the same. You're a guild mage, after all." His eyes gleamed with a fiery zeal which made her blood run cold, and she rolled to the side as he lunged at her, this time managing to create some distance between them.

"SMOKE!" she shouted. The letters which billowed out of the air before her were thick, grey, and they wrapped her opponent in a suffocating smog which left him blinded. She heard him start coughing loudly, and used the opportunity to dash as far as she could to another section of the library, 'Linguistics A - K'. Ducking behind one of the shelves, she pressed herself against the lined-up books and bit her lip, willing her heart to slow its rapid fluttering.

She wouldn't even dare sneak a look at the other side; the smoke would clear in a few seconds, and he would be after her again. The question was, how would she get out of there? He stood between her and the exit, and there was no way she was getting near him.

_BANG!_

A roll of thunder echoed throughout the room, and the ground rumbled with a chorus of thumps and thuds as it was battered by book after book after book. The huge, proud shelf he had brought down crumbled into pieces, just narrowly missing setting off a chain of destruction. If it had collided with another shelf, a domino effect would have been produced, and everything would have come tumbling down.

_Does he plan to destroy this place? _she wondered, clenching her hands into fists so tightly her knuckles were turning white. _Is he here because of me? Damn it, this is all my fault! _Some of these books were priceless, and yet he didn't care - this was no longer a library to him; he wanted it to be a battlefield.

"Gihihihi! Come on little fairy, come out and play!"

_I can't fight him! _her subconscious screamed as another bookshelf exploded with a loud _crack, _this time the one she was standing behind.A shower of books and pages released from their bindings fell amongst splinters and planks of wood, and she leapt back to avoid the wreckage. _He'll overpower me in a second! I can't do this, I can't, I can't, I can't! I'm not strong enough! _Her eyes moved left and right rapidly, searching for a window, a trapped door, a portal, _anything _that would help her escape.

"Y-you're not getting my magic!" her words came out in a shrill scream as his blackened figure appeared above the debris.

"What?" he paused mid-step, and she could've sworn the expression on his face wasn't bloodthirsty, as she had initially expected - in fact, it almost seemed…_puzzled_? "I don't want your magic, shorty. You can keep it!"

"STAY AWA - what?!" Suddenly, without warning, anger flared up within her. Why was he lying? Was he trying to antagonise her? Her emotions were fluctuating between terror and rage, and she couldn't seem to decide between one or the other. "I know what you're here for, and you can't have it!"

"I don't want your magic," he said again, locking eyes with her. They were a few feet away from each other once more - whoever made the first move would be sure to hit. She had to time this right. She had to find an opening. If there was no opportunity to get away, then she had to create one.

"That makes no sense! You took Laxus's -"

"No, no, that was Sol," he cut her off midway. "_I _wanted to wait a bit - have a decent fight with him first. Fucking Sol had to get in the way, though." When he spoke to her like this, he seemed less like the monster under her bed, and more like a rather murderous human being. She wasn't sure whether she liked this viewpoint better; she was still as scared as before, even more so now that she wasn't sure whether he was lying or not. "It's been _so _fucking boring since then. I was hoping you guys would show up again, and you didn't. I was hurt - I thought you'd miss me." His lips curled into a roguish smile. "But it looks like the gods love me after all, because here you are! So c'mon, I just want a good fight. Or chase, or even…" It looked like he was having an epiphany. "You know what? We could do this right here and right now, _or_, you could take me to your hideout - obviously some of you still have your power, right? It'd be a hell of a lot more amusing if I got to beat the shit out of five mages rather than just one."

Caught up in his musings of bigger pickings, he almost didn't hear the word she whispered into the air - his ears perked up, and he became conscious of a strange, slithering sensation creeping over his limbs. Glancing down, he was startled to find big, block letters running over him, linked together in a chain-like pattern - they spelled the word 'BINDING', and indeed, it stayed true to its meaning. When he tried to raise an arm, he came to the sickening realisation that he couldn't. He tried the other, and suffered the same immobilisation.

He'd come here to catch her, and in an ironic turn of events, she'd caught him.

A look of relief broke out over her features, but she knew that it wouldn't last. She had to get out before it was too late. In one resolute move she had sprinted past him, back towards the double doors where he had followed her in.

"HEY!" he yelled, struggling against his invisible bonds. "HEY! GET BACK HERE! FAIRY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING? COME BACK AND FIGHT ME!"

"I'LL TAKE A RAIN CHECK!" she shouted back. There was so much adrenaline pumping through her veins that she wasn't sure her heart would ever slow its pace, and with a confidence and sweet relief she was sure was induced by the excessive amount of the hormone in her blood, she added, "Maybe I'll play with you next time!"

And then she was gone, and the doors swung shut behind her, leaving Gajeel imprisoned on the spot, completely helpless.

"…God damn it."


	4. Mistrust

**A/N: **Wow, what a positive response to the last chapter! Thanks so much, everyone! Please, keep your comments and criticism coming, and thank you so much for sticking with the story this far. :)

* * *

Magnolia was a town well known for its sunny disposition, having been blessed with a warm climate and a warm-hearted people, happy inhabitants who lived with shoulders light as air and smiles which dazzled foreigners visiting from towns far and near, making them question the nature of the food and drink they ordered in restaurants. There had to be _something _wrong with the place, after all. And indeed, Magnolia had its bad bits, its rundown buildings and mean-spirited criminals, yet this never affected the general state of things. Surely this couldn't last, could it? No city could enjoy such a peaceful state of existence forever. Sooner or later, cracks would emerge; tiny, spider-web fissures running like veins through the cheery expressions and pleasant demeanours; sooner or later, it would have to come to an end, right?

The end came faster than any of them had expected.

Pellets of rain battered the bare-armed fugitive as she ducked through alleyways and skidded across slippery streets, running for her life while all the while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, which was by no means an easy feat. Her body, having missed the warmth of the sun for so long, was more susceptible to the cold than ever, and occasionally a violent shudder would wrack her limbs, unsteadying her but never slowing her down. How much longer did she have to run? How much further did she have to go? She was losing track of time, measuring it not in seconds but in the huffs of breath which escaped her lungs and the footsteps which rang in her ears. A murky veil of cloud hung over the night sky, guaranteeing her protection once dawn was upon her, at least for a little while. She didn't doubt she could make it back before then - however, the rain was growing heavier by the minute, and the streets darker, impairing her vision. The town had changed so much since she had last seen it in the daylight - new buildings cropping up and old ones becoming empty shells, ruins of what they had once been - that even while her memory had successfully guided her past the unrecognisable landmarks before, when she couldn't barely see more than the outlines of their rough edges, it was much harder a task to accomplish.

Distressed and uncoordinated, she couldn't help the anxieties which plagued her on her way. Had it merely been coincidence that the dragon slayer had shown up in the library? No, no, that was stupid - what possible reason could _he _have of all people to be there? He must have known that she was there, sensed her presence somehow. _Natsu's always had a keen sense of smell…is it possible he could have remembered my scent from that night? _It wasn't a total stretch, was it? Still, whether she was right or not, the entire scenario had been so peculiar. Gajeel had barely been interested in her magic - it was as though he had barely even considered the notion of stealing it. His gleeful laughter and berserk rampaging were a reaction to her presence, and only that. She'd assumed it was an act, all intended to get her to lower her guard - a feat which, in his presence, was obviously impossible - and yet, she simply couldn't bring herself to believe it. He was brash and violent - he'd rather chase her than waste time tricking her. What did he have to gain from lying to her other than an easy win?

_What if he's still following me? _It almost hadn't occurred to her that her binding was temporary; what if he had already escaped, and was coming after her, a load of reinforcements behind him? Spurred on by the fearful spectres of her imagination, her strides grew longer. In response, the torrent countered her efforts and pushed against her limbs. Intent on her efforts, she hadn't expected the clap of thunder which echoed from the sky; startled, her foot slipped, and, arms wheeling through the air, she tumbled to the ground in a heap. Her left hand palm slapped down to the ground first, and then the right side of her jaw, and next, her knees. Pain blossomed throughout, and when she tried to stand up a loud cry escaped form her lips - her ankle seared with a sharp, fiery pain, and she fell back onto the pavement, cursing her luck with every swear in her vocabulary.

_No, no, no, this can't be happening! _The panicked thought ran over and over her tongue as she repositioned her legs and gently prodded the sore spot around her ankle. She must have sprained it, not too terribly, but bad enough that the second time she lifted herself from the floor, she teetered awkwardly on her one good foot, unable to step fully on the ground without inciting more pain.

"Wood," she whispered, and the russet letters coiled around themselves, narrowing and thickening into a long, tough stick. Leaning some of her weight onto it experimentally, she found it satisfyingly sturdy; it would help, but the injury was a huge blow to her chances of escape. Ignoring the raindrops which beat against her head, she hobbled forward as quickly as her body would allow her, praying that this sensation of having lost all her bearings was only just that.

Would this damned weather never calm? It was a curse and a benefit - although it caused her steps to turn sluggish and impeded her sight, it also hid her from her surroundings, and hopefully anyone who was pursuing her. She couldn't even keep her eyes open anymore - peering through narrowed slits, she continued moving forward, sloshing through puddles and ignoring her aches (or at the very least, trying to). Despite the fact that she could barely see past a three foot radius, she would still crane her neck back every now and again in constant lookout of any signs of life. It felt like it had been a long time since she'd last seen anyone else. There was no way Gajeel could find her in this downpour, right?

"AIEEEE!"

The scream was released from no other than Levy herself as the ground gave way beneath her unprepared foot; her lack of concentration and blurred vision had led her to miss the warning signs which led right into one of Magnolia's main stretches of canal - the canal she had just fallen into. A loud splash followed her inside, and her crutch slipped from her grip as her hands flailed about wildly until she had latched on to the edge of the canal. It was soaking wet - she wouldn't be able to keep a hold on it for long. At this point, did she haven have the strength to pull herself up? _Oh God, what am I going to do? I can't hang here forever. I have to try to get out._

Bracing herself, she began a mental countdown - _three…two…one! _With all her might, she hoisted herself up as high as she could, and just as expected, her hands began to slide right off the ledge. Falling once again, she received the shock of her life when a warm, dry hand grabbed her own, and with unnatural strength it hoisted her up and out of the canal. Her heart stopped; _he's got me! _But that couldn't be right; this hand was too small to be a man's, and too gentle to be capable of the same aggression as him. Peeking up through dripping lashes, she examined the face of her saviour.

It wasn't the chiseled, crimson-eyed face she had feared; this person was a pale-skinned woman with long blue hair that rested upon her collarbone in loose ringlets, and deep, dark blue eyes. She was dressed as though it was winter, and held a pink parasol which kept her completely dry. Levy hadn't encountered this woman before, but she knew exactly who she was. A member of the Element Four, the S-class faction of Phantom Lord. Gray had had multiple confrontations with this woman, all of which he had emerged from suspiciously unscathed.

"You…you are from Fairy Tail," said Juvia, her voice ringing out clearly amidst the pitter-patter of the raindrops. Levy quickly covered the mark on her arm defensively, her fingers trembling from the numbing cold which held her in its grasp.

She said nothing, but when Juvia took a cautious step closer, she flinched and leaned back as far as she could without tumbling back into the water.

"If you are not in hiding, you must still have power," she murmured insightfully, tugging at a lock of her hair. "And you are injured. My fellow mages may still be wandering the streets from their escapades in the bars; have you encountered any of them? Are you retreating to your base?"

Once again, Levy was silent. Juvia appeared mildly disinterested in the whole situation, with her gaze cast upward and index finger tapping a silent turn out on her chin. Levy wasn't sure exactly what she was going to do, but maybe, just maybe she could make a quick dash past the woman and hide somewhere until she was gone. As if reading her thoughts, Juvia bent down onto her haunches in front of the wounded girl and shook her head.

"No," said the Element Four mage, "you cannot go. Juvia will not let you, unless you take her back with you."

"…Huh?"

"Juvia hates this new world. Everyone is unhappy. It isn't fair. It is cruel to take the magic of others. It is the same as stealing their very souls. It cannot be done any longer. It must be stopped, and the magic returned. Please, take Juvia with you, and let her help you fix this world. If you agree, you will be released."

"…You want to join us?" Levy pronounced the words slowly, as though her mouth was full of sticky toffee. Completely unfazed by the girl's incredulity, Juvia nodded firmly. "No. You're lying. You're all liars - all you want is our hideout's location, so you can reveal it to your friends."

Juvia must have been a fantastic actress, because for a moment, Levy almost believed the expression of sheer dismay which presented itself on her face. "Juvia has no such wish. You must believe her."

"How can I?" Maybe it was the terror, the cold, the impending doom which loomed above Levy's head, but all of a sudden she didn't care that this was an opponent who had every single advantage over her. She didn't care about her weakened state anymore. Nothing mattered. "You're a part of Phantom Lord - that means you're our enemy. There's no way I'm going to trust you. So turn me in, hand me over and send me to the prisons, take my magic, even. But I will not let you near our hideout."

The mage seemed distraught by this. "I cannot keep on doing this." Dropping her parasol altogether, she grabbed Levy's hands tightly, astonishing the poor girl. "You may leave, if you wish. I will not stop you. I do not want you to suffer as well. Juvia is sorry for trying to threaten you, but _please_, Juvia begs you, _please _take her with you. Please don't make her go back to doing horrible things. This is not the life she has always wanted. It is not a life one can bear. _Please_."

The rain was relentless, yet it did not drown out the woman's words - rather, it almost enforced them, as though she were channelling all of her determination, all of her misery into the storm above their heads. Levy stared at the crouching woman mistrustfully, taking in every inch of her countenance, every honest, innocent line which marked her skin, the sincerity which filled the mage's deep blue eyes, and she found herself wanting to believe Juvia. Wanting to trust her. Wanting everything she had thought about this new world to be wrong, that it wasn't all filled with bad - that there were lights in the darkness, too, lights which hadn't been snuffed out just yet. "Juvia will do anything. She will fight for you, steal information for you, be imprisoned for you - just let Juvia be of help." Levy's ears perked up. That was right. She was a _member _of Phantom Lord, for Christ's sake! She could provide them with more information than any text could! If Juvia wasn't lying, with her on their side, Makarov might end the lockdown. With this they could even take the initiative to get their town back!

Time was running out. She had to make a decision. "Alright, alright, I understand," said Levy. She held Juvia's hands with equal pressure, and locked eyes with her. "You understand what you're be doing, don't you? You're giving up your freedom to become a fugitive. My friends…they might not even accept your claims. If I take you back with me, they might just decide to lock you up and throw away the key. Are you sure you're alright with that?"

Juvia nodded vigorously. "Juvia doesn't want to take anyone else's magic."

"Then Juvia can come with me."

With a beautiful, relieved smile on her face, Juvia got up and helped Levy do the same. "Can you walk?" she asked worriedly, glancing down at Levy's ankle. "Juvia saw you limping."

"I probably can -"

"Here, lean on Juvia," she slipped Levy's arm around her neck and gripped her torso tightly. "The rain will hide us from prying eyes. You have nothing to fear now."

Shivering, teeth chattering, Levy wobbled along the edge of the canal with Juvia, mixed feelings in her heart. She was taking a huge risk with this, one which her comrades would possibly hate her for, but at the same time, what better lead could she have come up with than an ex-Phantom Lord member?

"Erm, miss…" Juvia started, faltering midway through her sentence.

"Levy."

"Levy. Thank you."

* * *

"…That was pathetic."

This insult was aimed at none other than Gajeel himself, by his own psyche. He was still quite sour about how quickly his night ended, especially when it had been so full of promise before. True, it hadn't started off as he'd expected it would; on his way to the library he'd been hoping to find either of the fugitive ice mages (preferably the stronger one), but instead he'd found that girl. She hadn't been much of a fighter - or, rather, she'd done everything in her power to avoid conflict, yet she'd still been an amusing target, all the same. Neither did it hurt that she was pretty cute, too. With her petite stature, messy blue hair, and large, hazel eyes, for just a heartbeat he'd been less inclined to think of her as an opponent, and more inclined to imagine what she looked like when she smiled. But then he'd remembered who she was, and the power she had, and it brought him right back to his original plans.

He had to admit that if he'd been completely focused on their match, she wouldn't have been able to ensnare him so easily. It wasn't his fault, though! He'd been thrilled at the fact that he'd even caught her scent, and what's more, been able to track her down from such a long distance. Pride in his skills had led to distraction, which had led to her squeezing out of his grip with barely any effort. Still, her spell had been impressive - it had held him for a good five minutes before he'd managed to break through the letters, far longer than he'd expected it to. By that time, it had started to rain, and the water wiped out all traces of her from the street. Her words still echoed in the empty library - _maybe I'll play with you later! _Whether or not she'd made the remark seriously, he would certainly take her at her word.

_Next time, little fairy. _For now, he had other concerns to mull over. One of the grunts had found him wandering aimlessly through the rain, and told him he was to meet with the Element Four - they had a few questions to ask him.

"About what?" he'd demanded to know, but the grunt had simply bowed and dashed away.

Finally, just as the rain was beginning to let up, he arrived at his destination: the same bar he'd been at before. It was closing time, and the stools were upturned and lined nearly along the counter table, except for the three upon which sat Totomaru, Sol and their dark-skinned, blindfolded leader, Aria. The music was off, the regular, dull yellow lights turned on, and the bartender oddly absent from her post. _Look's like there's no hope of me getting through this with some alcohol in me, huh? _Their heads turned upon his arrival, and their conversation ceased with an oddly hasty hush. Enveloped by a feeling of apprehension, he pretended not to have noticed a thing and approached them with his usual level of aggression. He grabbed one of the stools from the bar and tossed it down in front of them. Leaning his elbows on the small circular surface, he aimed a steady gaze straight in front of him. "What do you guys want?"

"You're dripping wet," remarked Sol, grimacing at Gajeel's state. "Where were you?"

"Pondering my existence in the rain," said the dragon slayer derisively. Totomaru snorted and muffled his snickers with his hand. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes drooping shut, and somehow he seemed unbalanced on his stool. _Oh, so he gets to be intoxicated? _"It's none of your fucking business." Scanning the group once again, he realised something was off. "Oi. Where's Juvia?"

"That's what we wanted tot ask you," said Aria. His deep voice resonated loudly through the room, and brought Totomaru's silent laughter to an end. "Weren't you here when the announcement was made? Earlier this evening, she left a note behind, a sort of letter of resignation. She quit the guild." Gajeel remained impassive, but inside he was taken aback by this development.

"Why would she do that?" he asked.

"She said, and I quote, 'Juvia doesn't like this way of doing things'," scoffed Totomaru. "The rest is a bore, but anyway, she's gooooone." He slurred the last word, and his lips drooped into a frown.

_I guess it makes sense, _Gajeel mused, resting his chin in his palm. _All she did was whine and moan about the way we do things…well, whatever. She'll be a lot happier now, if that's even possible for her. _

Still, while he would never admit it, his days would become a lot more mundane without her refreshingly different worldview. They'd paired up on enough jobs before that he'd grown used to her presence, even to her monotonous mannerism and occasionally bizarre way of thinking. Not to mention she was far less annoying than the rest of her team.

"So, do you know where she is?"

"Haven't seen her," he stated bluntly. "Why does it matter?"

Sol chuckled condescendingly, and Gajeel felt a vein in his head twitch. "Oh, well isn't it _obvious_, my dear Gajeel? She can't be allowed to just _leave_ like that, not while she's still so powerful."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She can leave - but only after we've confirmed she won't be a potential threat in the future."

"…Are you telling me you're going to steal her magic?"

"Oh _non non non, _don't think of it like that!" exclaimed Sol, waving a hand up and down before his face. His features narrowed into a sly expression, and he pinched the end of his thin, pointed moustache. "Think of it as taking what belongs to us, as members of Phantom Lord."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I said why?"

Gajeel didn't understand it. Take the magic of your enemies so that they can no longer threaten your rule - as unpleasant as the results had proven to be, it was a rational line of thinking. It made sense to him. Whether he liked it or not, or whether Juvia liked it or not, that was the way things were. But this was _Juvia _they were talking about - that had to be different, right? She had worked with them, been their companion for years on end. Whether or not he liked his comrades, or treated them well or badly, Gajeel knew where his loyalties lay at the end of the day. And Juvia…sure, she was gloomy, and at times incredibly weird or just plain irritating, and sure, she had left, but she had been a part of that. She had helped Phantom Lord obtain this town - she'd been there every step of the way. Whose right was it to take her magic from her?

"Are you arguing _against _it?" Sol asked, sounding forcedly baffled by Gajeel's questioning. "Are you taking her side, Gajeel? Her, our potential enemy? I wonder, is there any reason you would have to want to protect her?"

He spoke pleasantly enough, but the dragon slayer was not deaf to the dangerous undertones of this inquiry. All three members of the group were staring at him now, with their blank expressions and hidden agendas, and all of a sudden he felt a chill in the air.

"Do whatever you guys want," he grunted, straightening up. "If I see her, you'll be the first to know."

"For your sake, Gajeel, we hope so as well."


	5. Heroics

**A/N: **And so, the story progresses! The romance is (finally) getting closer and closer, so you can expect some lovely fluffy chapters in the near future. Thanks so much for your reviews, they're absolutely fantastic to read, and please do keep the comments and criticism coming! ^^

* * *

Naturally a timid soul, the spotlight was no place for a girl like Levy. Ironically, these days it seemed as though she'd earned herself a permanent spot beneath it.

She was perched awkwardly atop one of the long wooden tables, and two layers of blankets beneath the white towel wound tightly around her head served as the costume for her performance. Makarov and Juvia stood only inches away, conversing in the middle of the mess hall for all to hear. The inhabitants of the shelter listened to their discussion with amazement, astounded by the developments, which had taken place overnight and eagerly awaiting what would happen next. Juvia's parasol was shut, and she held it upside down, occasionally twisting it sideways in her hands. The Master had fallen silent, deliberating upon her words. Gray and Lucy hovered to the right of Levy, both fresh out of bed, sporting ruffled hair and eyes ringed with shadows. A few feet behind them sat Jet and Droy, with arms folded across their chests and lips twisted into frowns.

It couldn't have been more than an hour since Levy had brought the enemy - well, _former _enemy _- _home with her, startling the dragon slayer and Exceed on watch, neither of whom had expected any visitors. Without a second thought, they had pinned down the ex-Phantom and cried out for backup, oblivious to Levy's frantic assertions that she was on their side, and not the other way around anymore. Juvia had been searched - Levy had demanded to be the one to do so, even though her fingers were stiff from the cold and her teeth refused to cease their chatter. Once she had proven Juvia's innocence, everyone had been a lot more inclined to believe her words.

"I never knew you to be troublemaker, Levy," Makarov had sighed, shaking his weary head. "And yet here you are. Well, go on then. Explain yourself. I'll hear you out."

And so he had listened to her story alongside the rest of her audience, who had come running from their rooms when the alarm had rang. When she had finished, Juvia had begun to speak as well, expressing her sentiments as well as she could without choking on the lump in her throat. It surprised no one when opposition instantly came forth.

"How do we know she's not lying to us?" they inquired, united in their scepticism.

"Weren't you listening at all?" asked Levy. "She saved my life! Without her I would have never made it back here."

"You shouldn't have been out there in the first place!" retorted her orange-haired teammate.

"I was only trying to help," she said.

"Risking your own life in the process, and just about forgetting the rest of us. I trust you, Levy, you know that, but lately it can't be said that you've made the smartest decisions."

Jet meant well, she knew, even if he and Droy were upset about her recent tendency to make decisions without them. He had to be the devil's advocate for the sake of the others, in order to help expel all doubts (and, more likely, to express the disgruntlement he and his friend felt at being left out of her plans), but his words still managed to sting her all the same.

"Hey - that first time was all my fault," interrupted Gray, coming to her defence. "But what's happened has happened. There's no going back. As unsound as her judgement - or hell, even my own judgment may be, I think she's right. We can trust Juvia."

"Why?"

"I don't know if any of you have encountered this woman before, but I have on multiple occasions, when we were still fighting for the town. She's strong - she's had countless opportunities to trap me, to land the finishing blow and take my magic away, but she never took those changes. It's thanks to her mercy that I'm here today. She's not a bad person. She's just been caught up with a lot of bad people."

Juvia's large, astounded eyes remained riveted to the ice mage long after he finished speaking, and Levy was almost sure she could see a hint of a spark lurking within the dark blue depths. Before long, the room was flooded with voices trying to be heard over one another, and the chaos reigned until a loud command from Makarov returned order to the hall.

"This base was built for everybody's sake," he said finally. "Anyone seeking shelter here is more than welcome, including yourself."

His words inspired a brilliant smile to break out across the rain woman's face, a reaction which seemed to win over the hearts of all of those who had been unconvinced. "Thank you so much, Master Makarov," she said, bowing gratefully before him. "Thank you. Juvia will help you in whatever way she can."

"Tell us about the lacrima!" some yelled from the back of the room. Levy recognised the voice as belonging to Hibiki, the mage from Blue Pegasus. "How does it work?"

Juvia searched for the speaker as she responded. "Juvia does not understand much about it, but from the research she has read, they say the crystals act as a storehouse for magic. Once it comes into contact with a mage, their power flows into the stone, and out flows a dark matter which inhibits the production of any more magic within the body."

"How can we resist it?"

"You cannot." she stated simply.

"There must be a way! A spell, a trick, something!"

"You can only hope to cease contact before it's too late."

"Can we get our magic back?" another asked. This time the question came from Jet.

"Juvia doesn't know. She has only every seen the crystal be used to take away someone's power - never to return it. They told us that destroying the crystal would release the magic, but it would not return it to the owner. The magic would simply…disappear. They wish to make use of the magic within the stones, but they do not know how yet, so they keep different stores of lacrima all over the city, constantly moving it, constantly testing it. They are very careful."

"So there's still hope for us," said Hibiki, pushing his way to their stage. "We find the lacrima, steal it back, and figure out how to return everyone's magic."

Levy's ears perked up at this suggestion. This was it, wasn't it?

Something was happening.

"_If _we can even find it," said Gray. "You heard her. They're always moving it around. It's too risky to go out there blindly searching the tens of warehouses they own."

"Actually, Juvia might be able to help."

All eyes focused on her, and a deep blush spread across her cheeks. "The responsibility of moving the lacrima belongs to the Element Four. J-Juvia was the last one to move the batches around, so she knows where they will be for the next few days, if they haven't decided to move them already. There is a risk, but if we act quickly, we may make it on time before the next rotation, which should occur eight days from now."

She directed her last statement to Makarov, whose expression had slowly transformed from its usual stoic mask to one which none of the residents of the base had glimpsed from him in a long time. In the lines of his old, withered face, they recognised the familiar crinkle which blossomed around the corners of his eyes, and a low, hopeful murmur spread through the assembly.

"So what are we waiting for? Juvia, Hibiki, Gray, come with me. We have some arrangements to make."

"And then?"

"What do you mean, 'and then'? We're going to get our magic back!"

**a week later**

Levy hesitantly applied pressure to the wrappings around her ankle, and was elated to find that the swelling and aching had become almost nonexistent. Seven days on bed rest had done her well, miraculously preventing her from developing a fever - even after all her exposure to the cold - and restoring her to what could possibly be considered premium health. Seated cross-legged on the bunk opposite hers, a relieved smile crossed Juvia's lips in response to Levy's delighted countenance. The ex-Phantom had taken up residence in her, Lucy and Cana's room, much to the chagrin of the latter, who had enjoyed having an entire bunk bed all to herself.

"Don't worry, I'll find somewhere else to put these," she'd said as cheerfully as she could while wheeling away the numerous bottles of alcohol she had hoarded over the months.

"She'll never find a place for all that," Levy had commented in disbelief, and Juvia had only been able to apologise profusely to the brunette, who really wasn't bothered at all, especially when Levy suggested the disused library as a new storage room.

Since then, Juvia had become fully immersed in the life of the shelter. She had taken it upon herself to cover Levy's nightly cleaning duties while the book-smart mage recovered from the draining ordeal she had been through, and did this alongside attending strategy meetings day in and day out, and spending rather a great deal of time in the company of Gray, whom she had taken a considerable shine to. In contrast, Levy had uselessly laid around in her bedridden state, especially during the first few days when her nose had dripped constantly and her chest wracked with deep, chesty coughs. She was never bored, though; her teammates would come to visit every so often, having quickly forgiven her for her actions, not to mention Lucy had spent a lot of time taking care of her and keeping her updated on the strategy meetings, which she had begun attending in order to take minutes. Juvia had gone to great lengths to produce an accurate blueprint of the warehouse in which the lacrima was stored, and from there it had been a matter of deciding who would go and how they would carry out this theft.

The team was developed then: a small group consisting of Juvia, Gray, Hibiki, Lyon, and, if possible, Levy. They hadn't considered including her at first, uncertain of how much time she would need for her condition to improve, but she had begged and pleaded relentlessly until they reluctantly gave in (much to the annoyance of Jet and Droy, who were still upset over her last close call).

And, whether through the aid of hospital-like care provided to her by her friend or simply by her own determination, the injuries she'd obtained from her last excursion very nearly completely healed, and she was ready to go.

Their strategy was a simple one: under the cover of darkness, they would sneak into the warehouse from the southern end of the building, where brick walls layered with grime met the edge of the western reach of the forest, which provided them with a well-hidden escape route if something were to go wrong. Underneath a sheet of black tarp rested a barred trap door which led all the way down into the warehouse's basement, an ancient compartment filled to the brim with rotting cargo and curtains of spider web. It was a labyrinth of forgotten relics and unwanted goods, simple enough to navigate if you knew the way through, which, thankfully, Juvia did. This was where Hibiki would situate himself while the others continued further into the compound. He would send them the necessary schematics, along with their orders and constant updates on their progress. From there, the group would split into two - Juvia and Levy would take their equipment - thin mesh nets, thick leather gloves, and the works - make a beeline to where the lacrima was situated, while Gray and Lyon would take care of the grunts in the rooms nearby, and search for anything else that could be of use to them. The girls could deal with anyone who got in their way on their own.

"Try to take them out in one, quick move," warned Hibiki as they entered the warehouse. "We only dismantled the spells around the door - the ones inside are still active, and I'll work on getting them down, but until then we can't risk any of the guards setting the alarm off."

Once inside, Levy and Juvia split apart from Gray and Lyon, intending to make their way into the lacrima's storage place through the ventilation system which crept along the ceiling, which they hoped would be just large enough to accommodate one of them. Juvia had all but guaranteed that there would be no guards within the large, enclosed space; all of them were terrified of the stuff, and if they could help it, they wouldn't go anywhere near it.

They snuck through the hallways, following the route which Hibiki had mapped out for them. It was no easy feat. Phantom Lord was evidently unwilling to take any chances, for the number of enemies that Levy and Juvia had to incapacitate was completely unexpected; they could only imagine that their comrades had to deal with twice this number. Pacing every corridor, lurking in every corner, whether seated or standing with magazines and small snacks, the phantoms were all over the place. Silence was of the utmost importance, and it just happened to be the specialty of the two slight girls.

Waving a gloved hand, Juvia released their latest victim from her Water Lock. The unconscious grunt fell from the floating sphere of water, her uniform soaked through, pulse slowed to a dangerously low pace. Levy gulped as she bound the woman tightly, and thanked her lucky stars that Juvia was on her side, and not the other way around.

"We are making good progress," said the mage, neatly stepping over the immobile heap. "Juvia hasn't seen any familiar faces so far - they must be a part of the new batch."

"Is that a good thing?" asked Levy in a low voice.

"Yes - it means they are inexperienced. We can take them easily." She stopped before a simple brown door, identical to all the others yet more important than all of them. "This is the place. Hibiki, are you listening?"

"Loud and clear," the disembodied voice responded from within their ears. "Things have been going smoothly. Keep it up."

Nodding, Juvia held a finger to her lips and then cautiously laid her hand on the rusted doorknob. Ever so slowly, she twisted it to the right, wincing as its hinges emitted a loud creak. They held their breath and waited for a reaction. A few seconds later after nothing had happened, and Juvia gave Levy the signal to follow her in.

The room was not exactly a room, but more like a cupboard, crammed with steel file cabinets which looked like they hadn't been touched in years. Scattered papers lay about the floor, along with old folders and broken pens. The vent they were looking for was right at the top of the wall; Levy hoisted herself up on top of the cabinet and pulled a small screwdriver out of her pocket, making quick work of the ventilation.

"I'll go in first," said Levy, "and if everything goes right, I'll call you over. For now, just stay here and make sure no-one gets in."

"Are you sure?" asked Juvia.

"Positive."

"Got it. Be careful."

"I will."

The walls of the vent were narrow and pressed lightly against the edge of her shoulders; the cool metal was cold beneath her forearms, but she ignored it as she shimmied down the cramped path. Her noiseless descent through the system was painstakingly slow, but she could feel the metal base rattle beneath her weight, and she dared not increase her speed; going any faster could have disastrous results. _Thank god I'm not claustrophobic, _she sighed inwardly. A pang in her ankle reminded her of another reason to take it easy, but she willed it out of her conscious. Already, her hopes were rising. This was it, the opportunity she'd been waiting for for so long. If they could get all the lacrima back to their base, they could find a way to return everyone's magic. They could launch a counter-attack.

They could take their home back.

After what seemed like an eon, she found what she was looking for; the four, slanted slits of light which signaled the end of her journey. It was no easy task to exit without falling flat on her face, but somehow, she managed. Her miniature cheer of celebration died upon her lips as soon as she turned around.

It was empty.

Empty couldn't even begin to describe the despairing state of the area. It was barren. Utterly and completely barren. She had expected to come upon a vast hoard of lacrima, a huge pile of misshapen stone upon stone - hell, even one god damn speck of dust would have been more than welcome _-_ and instead, she'd found this desolate place instead. A desperate frenzy overcame her - she walked over every single inch of the ground, inspecting every visible spot, praying that this wasn't right, that this was all merely the work of a damn good camouflaging spell, that her eyes were deceiving her. Praying that this hadn't all been in vain.

"There's nothing here!" she finally hissed in frustration.

"What?!" came the disbelieving exclamation of Hibiki. She'd almost forgotten about him.

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

"You've got to be joking!"

"I swear, Hibiki, there's _nothing _here!"

"Damn it!" She could hear him swearing profusely. "They must have moved everything earlier than Juvia had expected."

"What are we supposed to do _now_?" she asked, her urgent gaze constantly wandering around the room.

If he replied, she didn't hear it. Something had caught her attention, a small, orange glimmer in the corner of her eye, radiating from the shadows residing in the far end of the room. Tugging at her gloves nervously, she approached the strange object, for a second imagining it would simply disappear from view.

It was a small black stone.

She picked it up, and through the thick leather protecting her fingers she could feel a rush of power that nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.

_What is this? _she asked herself, turning it over in her palms._ I feel heat, and warmth, such familiar warmth. It's just a stone, I know that, but… it's almost bursting with life! _Without warning, for the span of an instant she found herself back in the sunny halls of her guild, laughing along with her friends as Natsu and Gray wound each other up into yet another brainless argument. It was almost like it had happened yesterday. She'd almost been burnt to a crisp by a badly aimed roar from the dragon slayer, and the power she'd felt rush past her back then…she could've sworn it felt just like this. _If this is a lacrima…could these be Natsu's flames inside of it?! Is this his power?_

"Levy? What's happened? Are you alright? Levy?" Hibiki's panicked calls burst through her reverie and brought her reeling back to the real world.

"Sorry, sorry - I think I've -"

"No time for that, I've ordered the rest to retreat - you and Juvia need to get out, now!"

As if on cue, a loud, deafening siren filled her ears, silencing the voice in her head. The other entrance to the room - or rather, the actual entrance, the door she hadn't even noticed, burst open, and a mean looking pair, a dark haired man and scar-faced woman, came running in. They were shouting something she couldn't hear, but she wasn't going to wait around for them to repeat it. Without a second thought she was scrabbling back to the wall and hanging off the edge of the vent, while the two grabbed at her ankles and tried to pull her down.

"Fire!" she yelled out silently, and while no sound was produced, the words flew at the hands of her attackers and singed them badly. They dropped her, and the soles of her shoes bounced off of the head of the taller one as she used his face to propel herself into the tunnel. From there it was a mad, violent scrabble to the other side - as she popped out and fell on top of a worried Juvia, she could faintly hear the sounds of an approach over the din, followed by surprised yelps and a rumbling crash as the vent gave way beneath her pursuers somewhere along the way.

Recovering their bearings, they jumped up and began sprinting back the way they came, never once looking back to check whether they had a tail or not. Ankle throbbing once again and chest heaving, Levy was slower than Juvia, and it was no surprise that the pale-skinned woman had soon completely outrun her. When Levy reached the basement, she could see the rest of her comrades at the far end of the room, hovering at the base of the stairs. Unsure of how many guards were still left and on the loose, she stayed back to shut the door and bind it with a spell, even though she knew well enough just how long it was bound to last.

"Levy, what are you doing?!" Hibiki yelled into her head.

"Get out! I'll buy us some time!"

"You can't be serious -"

"I'm almost done! Just go! I'll meet you at the halfway point!"

They had no other choice but to listen to her - she knew this, and so did he. She didn't wait to watch him force the protesting ice mages through the exit, and instead spent the next minute finishing the spell. The alarm lulled and faded into nothing, and in her finishing touches she switched off the light. Darkness filled the room, along with an eerie silence.

_I need to go, now, _she thought, when a violent _SLAM _against the door broke through her stream of thought. The wood cracked, the door bulged in the middle, and Levy realised that she'd made a grave miscalculation in just how long her spell would hold.

_Shit! _What could she do? Could she get out? The wood continued to crack, and she knew that if they saw her know, they'd follow her back to her friends, and there was no way she'd accept that. Eyes now adjusted to the dark, she ducked behind the largest box she could find, unintentionally choosing instinct to guide her actions instead of reason.

With a groan, the door finally gave way, and light shone in from the hall. A vicious aura filled the room, one that wrapped itself around her skin and caused her heart to suffer from massive palpitations. Oh no. Oh, no. No no no no no. She did not want to, but she recognised this feeling, and immediately recognised its cause. _No._ It wasn't him. It wouldn't, definitely couldn't be him. The universe would not betray her like this.

Right?

Sucking in a deep breath, she turned her head and very, very slowly raised it ever so slightly over the lid of the box.

_HE'S RIGHT THERE! _her subconscious eyes glowed brightly in the darkness, and she could feel their heat on her skin, burning her with the sheer intensity of his gaze. A wave of terror washed over her, turning her blood cold and making it harder to breathe. Her resolve flickered out like the flame of a candle, and she shrunk further into the shadow of the cargo, aware that it was too late, that he had seen her, yet desperate to remain hidden all the same. _This is it, _she thought, wrapping her arms around herself. _He'll kill me! _Within her pocket she could feel the pulse of Natsu's lacrima against her skin._ I was so close. So, so close. Damn it!_

Gajeel's footsteps drew closer and closer, and just as Levy considered preparing a spell to blast him sky high - or at least a few feet away - the lights snapped on, flooding the room with their fluorescent gleam. Her body went rigid, and she didn't dare even attempt a single movement.

"Hey, Gajeel!" a man called out. "What the hell are you doing in here? Almost everyone in the building is unconscious, and the intruders are long gone - Sol is calling an emergency meeting up in the lacrima room. If you can still walk, you have to get up there."

A million different scenarios ran through Levy's head in that instant, multiple ones where she miraculously knocked out the men and ran, others where she was dragged kicking and screaming along with them, but never would she have predicted what happened next.

"Give me a minute - I've been ordered to see if I can track their scents through this garbage."

"Whatever, just hurry up."

She barely heard the other man leave the room - hear heart was hammering so loudly that its volume almost rivaled that of the wailing sirens of a few minutes ago. She waited for something to happen, waited for Gajeel to spring up behind her, but nothing of the sort occurred. As the saliva returned to her throat and she found she could swallow again, she realised that Gajeel was talking to her.

"Oi, fairy," he growled. He was still out of sight, but she could see his shadow on the ground, just centimetres away from her own. "I know we agreed to play together again, but if you want to keep your magic, then you might want to get out of here."

With these words of warning, he was gone.

And a second later so was she.


End file.
